


Carousel Of Broken Dreams

by YohKoBennington



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gore, M/M, Mention of Child Abuse, Murder, Semi-Public Sex, circus AU, handjob, mentions of future non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:59:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4646430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YohKoBennington/pseuds/YohKoBennington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say revenge is a plate best served cold. Sam and Dean can't wait to have their feast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carousel Of Broken Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Written for salt_ burn_porn 2015 round with the prompt "Set me free" by hybridshade.
> 
> Just a small warning: While it doesn't happen, there's mention of possible non-con situation.
> 
> Thank you to thursdaysisters for the quick look up. Any lasting mistakes are my own.
> 
> Now with art from the awesome [Amberdreams!](http://amberdreams.livejournal.com/429491.html)

 

 

The last knife hits the wood just a few centimeters from his co-star's head, and the public explodes into applause and cat calls. The light lands on them as they bow, holding hands, and the applause becomes louder.

This public is dead. All of them are soulless rich bastards, looking for entertainment on Saturday night, at the hands of the freaks of the town that they never spare a look for on the other days of the week. They're too busy pretending they can control their lives, and searching for a happiness that they will never find.

Sam wonders what would happen if he had missed his shot and his nice partner ended with his knife right in her forehead, sightless eyes staring at an astonished public. What would they do then? How much would that ruin their perfect miserable lives?

One day, not too far, he'll maybe find out.

The curtain drops, giving space for them to retire from the stage, and the next act to prepare. He says goodbye to the girl. He likes her, she's the only other innocent soul besides Charlie on this whole clusterfuck of greed and lust, and maybe she'll be smart enough to leave before this place sucks her soul black and there's no other place to go anymore.

Dean is waiting for him behind the dark curtains that divide the stage from the backstage. He shines under the soft light, the glitter that Charlie put on his upper naked body still lingering like a second skin. His act ended two hours ago, but he never leaves until Sam's is done. Guarding, making sure his baby brother makes it home safe like he's always done since the day Sam was born, and even more so after their parents were murdered by the owner of the circus.

The police ruled it an accident. Sam and Dean know better.

Dean meets him with an easy smile, as Sam walks to stand next to him. Sam sometimes wonders how Dean can still smile when they live in this nightmare of world. Then again, he only does it for Sam, and Sam himself saves his smiles for Dean.

“That was a little too close to her head, don't you think?” Dean says, crossing his arms. Sam is distracted for a minute with the bulging muscles formed over years of playing with his aerial hoop.

“She can take it.”

Dean rolls his eyes, in that way when he doesn't agree with Sam but doesn't want to argue about it. Sam doesn't want to argue either, mostly because Dean is right. He got distracted for a second in his own head, thinking how good it would feel to throw one of those knives at the public and see who would be the lucky one, and almost lost control. They can't afford that, not now when they are so close to breathing fresh air. If Alastair suspected anything about their plans, they'll be dead in the morning. Although, Sam thinks that's a better option than staying another year with the circus and in this piece of shit town. And he's heard Dean say he feels the same way.

The light goes up in the stage, successfully leaving them in complete darkness now. Nobody can see them, but they can perfectly watch the next act taking place. Sam moves behind Dean, surrounding his torso with his arms, taking the smell of powder and sweat combined with something that's just Dean and that Sam has never been able to put into words.

“Someone might see us.” Dean protests, but he's not pulling away, if anything he gets closer to Sam's body.

“Don't care.”

Dean chuckles. “You're very adventurous tonight.”

Sam smirks, kissing the place between Dean's shoulder and neck, knowing he will get glitter on his lips. “I'm always adventurous.” He answers, dragging his left hand up Dean's torso until he find his nipple and twists it. Dean barely holds a moan, head falling back on Sam's shoulder, and Sam is glad the music on the stage is too loud to distract the public with anything else than what's happening in front of their eyes.

Dean is also right this time thought, tonight Sam feels loose. Maybe because he can smell the clear air coming so soon. Maybe because he'll get to do what he always wanted to and dreamed of since seeing the bodies of their parents on the floor, pool of blood spreading like butter on bread.

He wants Alastair's blood to spray every inch of his precious circus. Sam wants Alastair to pay for every single time he put his hands on Dean. And he wants this town to go to hell for doing nothing about it when Sam accused him with the police, and Dean had the bruises covering his body like a map to prove it.

They say revenge is a dish best served cold. Sam can wait to have his feast.

But right now? He just wants to make Dean feel how much Sam loves him, and will do to protect him too. He makes Dean spit on his free hand, and then moves his hand down, tracing lightly the hard planes of Dean's torso, dipping his hand inside his shorts. He doesn't need the light to see what he's doing; he knows every freckle and all the parts of Dean's body. Sam takes in the way Dean's breathing accelerates, and how now he's completely giving himself to Sam; body relaxing and tensing with every stroke of his hand. It's moments like this he lives for, where it’s just them and the world disappears. When a simple touch can make everything better. And when they're so in tune with each other the limits stop existing and where one begins the other ends.

Dean arches his back, hand coming to grabs a fist full of Sam's hair, and Sam can tell he's close. Outside the crowd cheers distantly, announcing the end of the act. The rest of the lights will come on soon, and wouldn't it be majestic if they were found? If the public could only see how beautiful Dean looks when he's not carrying the burden of their past and present? But it's all only for Sam to watch, and no one else will ever have the privilege of seeing Dean's best show.

Dean lets go just as the lights start to turn on, and Sam's hand stays inside until Dean's panting turns into his satisfied breathing. Dean shifts, crashing his lips into Sam's with no care if someone sees them anymore. Sam loves he can do this to Dean; set him free. Dean's hand cups Sam's hard dick through his jeans, and Sam could come just with that simple touch tonight. He could let Dean return the favor right now, but they're trying to get out of here alive.

“Not now. Later.” Sam kisses on Dean's lips.

Dean understands, and suddenly the tension on his shoulders is back. Sam hates it. He promises himself he will make it disappear later again.

~*~

Sam hears it from Charlie, who comes running to tell him the news. Sam is on their tent as fast as his long legs allow him to. He sees Dean sitting on his cot, hunching over, and his legs threaten to become jello at the sight. Sam kneels in front of him, trying to see how much damage Alastair and his goons did this time. It hasn't happened like this in years. When Dean started bringing money with his show it wasn't convenient for Alastair to mark black and blue one of his main attractions.

So Sam wonders with dread what brought on the beating this time. If Dean got too loud mouthed, or worse yet, if Alastair knows about their plan to escape.

Dean looks up, and Sam heart fills with rage at the fat lip, and black eye on Dean's face.

“That motherfucker.” Sam moves to stand up. He's ready to end this shit right now, Alastair is hurting his brother again over his dead body first. That thought, and Dean's hand stops him. He could never do that to Dean. Leave him alone and at the mercy of that asshole.

He reminds himself to be smart about it.

“Please, Sammy, don't.”

“I'm sorry.” He doesn't know if he's apologizing for not making Alastair pay for what he's done right at this moment, or because Dean has to go through this to protect him from being him the one who ends up with broken bones. Maybe he's apologizing for both.

“It's fine.” Dean swallows, taking a deep breath that hurts if by the wince he makes, before straightening up a little. “I'm fine.”

“You're far from fine.”

“Don't ruin it, Sam.'

He's talking about their plan. “Why?”

Dean seems to get what he's asking. “He knows.”

Sam's blood runs cold. “What?”

“About us. He saw us the other night.”

Sam feels guilty right away. If he hadn't started it—

“Hey, this is not your fault.” Dean grabs him by the shirt, and shakes him. “Are you hearing me?”

“He knows, and he beat you because of it.”

Dean nods, avoiding his eyes.

Sam knows that look. “What else?”

“Sam, it doesn't matter. I'll kill him before allowing him to do that.”

“Do what?”

Dean closes his eyes, exhaling. “He said,” he glances back at Sam again. “That if I like to take it up the ass that much, then he gets to have me that way too. He wants me to be in his tend after my show tomorrow night.”

“Bastard. I'll kill him right now.”

“No, you won't.” Dean shakes him again. “Sammy listen to me,” he waits until he's sure Sam is paying attention. “We just have to move the plan for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow sounds fine by me.”

“And Alastair is mine.” Dean adds. “I know you have as much right to want to kill him for what he did to our parents but—“

 _And he's done to you_ , Sam finishes in his head. Sam grabs his hand. “I know.”

“Tell Charlie she needs to haul tail tonight.”

Sam nods, eagerness making his body vibrate with expectation.

Freedom can’t come any sooner.

~*~

Drenching the big top with gasoline while everybody is inside is easy. If anybody can smell it, they're too concentrated on the acts to say something. The rest of the caravan gets a dose of gasoline too.

Sam's blade slides over Alastair's goons fast; they don't know what hit them before they're on the ground. They never expected the seventeen year old quiet kid to be so deadly. His hands are tainted with the blood of his enemies, and the satisfaction fuels his heart with pride.

He finds Dean soon. It's hard to miss him when he's as dripping with as much blood, and dragging an axe. His face is the most beautiful sight Sam has ever seen. Drops of blood contrasting the black of his pupils and the green that's almost gone. And his uniform that he's been forced to use since he turned thirteen, all stained with Alastair's blood, his torturer. But what takes Sam's breath away, is the aura of peace he can read on Dean's body. He always knew Dean would be the one to end Alastair, it has always been his right. He could never understand completely how much Dean needed it.

Now he does.

Sam traces the blood, whipping away with his fingers the last of Alastair off Dean's face before he meets him in a heated kiss. They don't have much time before the acts are over, and they have to run, but right now they need to ground each other, and with them it's always been about touch when nothing else in the world made sense.

The whole caravan lights up like Christmas Day, and the screams and cries for help of the town people are the best Christmas carol Sam ever heard.

They run through the forest and to the endless night.

Neither looks back.

They're finally free.

 

**~Fin~**

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ♥


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